Chapter 2 - THE NAME THAT SILENCED THE CEO
Emma stopped smiling.
The lobby seemed to go strangely quiet.
“My husband owns this company.”
The sentence repeated inside her head.
Northstar had been founded eleven years earlier by Grant Caldwell after the collapse of his previous partnership.
Emma remembered the first leased warehouse.
She remembered Grant sleeping four hours a night.
She remembered putting their house up as collateral when the bank wanted more security.
She remembered sitting on the floor of an empty office with him on opening night, eating pepperoni pizza from the box because they couldn’t afford proper furniture yet.
She remembered Grant holding their daughter when she was six and promising that whatever happened, he would never gamble the family’s future again.
Emma knew exactly who owned Northstar.
More importantly, she knew who didn’t.
She looked at Madison’s badge.
“Your husband owns Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
Madison’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s none of your business.”
“You made it my business when you announced it in the lobby.”
“I don’t have to explain my personal life to a stranger.”
Emma slowly pulled out her phone.
“Actually, I think this is going to require an introduction.”
She tapped Grant’s name.
He answered on the second ring.
“Emma, sweetheart, I’m in a meeting.”
“I know.”
“Everything okay?”
“Not exactly.”
Grant’s voice changed immediately.
“What happened?”
Emma kept her eyes on Madison.
“I came to surprise you for lunch, but I accidentally ran into your new wife.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then—
“My what?”
“Your new wife.”
Madison’s smug expression faltered.
“She’s very confident. Apparently her husband owns your company.”
Another silence.
This one shorter.
“Where are you?”
First-floor elevators.”
“I’m coming down.”
The call ended.
Madison folded her arms.
“Cute.”
Emma put her phone away.
“Let’s wait.”
“You honestly expect me to believe you called Grant Caldwell?”
“I don’t particularly care what you believe.”
“You’re going to regret embarrassing yourself.”
“Maybe.”
Emma looked toward the elevator.
“But I don’t think I’m the one who should be worried.”
Less than two minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
Grant Caldwell stepped out in a navy suit with his sleeves slightly rumpled and his reading glasses still in one hand.
At fifty, Grant carried the kind of authority that had nothing to do with shouting. He was tall, broad-shouldered, silver beginning to show at his temples, his expression calm until he saw Emma.
Then confusion crossed his face.
“What happened?”
He walked directly toward her, put one hand at her waist and kissed her cheek.
“You really came.”
“I told you I wanted lunch.”
Grant smiled faintly.
Then he noticed Madison.
His smile vanished.
Behind him came Nolan Brooks, Northstar’s chief operating officer and Grant’s oldest friend.
Nolan looked between the two women.
“What’s going on?”
Emma nodded toward Madison.
“I believe introductions are in order.”
Grant frowned.
“Madison, you’ve met my wife?”
Madison went completely still.
“Your… wife?”
Emma smiled without warmth.
“For twenty-one years.”
The color left Madison’s face.
Grant looked at his assistant.
“What happened?”
Emma answered.
“She called me a stupid cow.”
Nolan coughed into his fist.
Grant’s jaw tightened.
Madison swallowed.
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“Apparently,” Emma said, “I also misunderstood the ownership structure of Northstar.”
Grant slowly turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
“Madison told me her husband owns the company.”
This time Nolan didn’t cough.
He froze.
Grant stared at Madison.
“Your husband owns my company?”
Madison recovered enough to lift her chin again.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“No,” Grant said. “I truly don’t.”
“Oh, please.”
“Madison.”
His voice dropped.
“Who is your husband?”
She hesitated.
Then said the name.
“Reed Mercer.”
Emma had never seen her husband’s face change that quickly.
Nolan stopped breathing for half a second.
Grant’s eyes hardened.
The warmth disappeared.
“Say that again.”
“Reed Mercer.”
Grant looked at Nolan.
Nolan whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Madison gave them both a disgusted look.
“Stop pretending.”
Grant didn’t answer.
He reached into his pocket, took out his phone and said one sentence.
“Claire, conference room. Now.”
Then he looked at Emma.
“Lunch is going to have to wait.”
Emma glanced at Madison’s suddenly trembling hands.
“I had a feeling.”
Grant turned toward his assistant.
“Come upstairs.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“I didn’t say you had.”
“You’re treating me like a criminal.”
Grant stepped into the waiting elevator.
“No, Madison. At this moment, I’m treating you like an employee who just claimed a man I haven’t spoken to in nine years secretly owns my company.”
May you like
He held the elevator door.
“And I would very much like to know why.”
